


Karma

by JadeElite



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Bullying, Casual Sex, Comfort, During Canon, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Non-Linear Narrative, References to Depression, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27021916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeElite/pseuds/JadeElite
Summary: Four months before the events of season 1, a social hermit named Kara McMannon was dragged to LUX by her roommate. After an interesting reaction to Lucifer's desire powers, the devil finds himself fascinated and curious by this woman and offers to help her overcome some of her issues in exchange for a favor to be granted later. Throughout the course of their interaction, he learns two interesting facts; he cares about her, and bad things happen to bad people around her. Beneath the mountains of self-loathing and daddy issues (something he can very much relate to) is something deeper, something possibly even celestial.Written in multi-arc style. With each arc designed to represent an 'episode'. A murder takes place in the present day and Lucifer works with the LAPD to solve it, and whilst he works on it his relationship with Kara is explored through interactions both in the present and in flashbacks. Chapters are divided as I please.In keeping with the theme of the show, I will also try to accompany each chapter posted with a selection of music that I feel is fitting, some songs may be reused from the show but it's hard to avoid that when they use ALL the good music.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Dan Espinoza, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	1. Act 1:Part 1: Give me some title ideas that's what I'm worst at

**Author's Note:**

> Quick notes of changes to canon; Lucifer has a phone far sooner. He also started his character development sooner because of meeting Kara. He's still his devilish self, but those softer sides of him we see later in this series start a bit sooner because he started changing before he met Chloe, and then emotional growth from knowing Chloe and the other show characters is added onto with Kara. So if my characterizations of him seem a little ahead of where he's supposed to be in the series that's why. Before this point, no other major canon changes have occurred, though now that she's being introduced to the other characters in this arc and becoming a part of the storyline there are potential changes in the future.  
> This chapter takes place between S1E8 and S1E9  
> New songs for the Lucifer x Kara playlist; Nightwish "Wish I Had an Angel", Good Charlotte "Little Things", Paramore "Misery Business". Grace Potter and the Nocturnals "Loneliest Soul."

The flashing red and blue of the good ol’ LAPD sirens were not too different from that of a good night at LUX. Perhaps that’s why Lucifer always gets such a thrill coming up to a fresh crime scene. But tonight, that nostalgia was missing. Instead, a cold sensation weighed in the devil’s stomach as he drove through this familiar section of town. The poor guy was more than uneasy as he pulled up to a building he is quite acquainted with. He so desperately hoped that the address he had gotten was wrong, but those lights confirmed that.

He sits in his convertible, staring at one of the cop cars parked nearby. His mind is void yet full. Thoughts racing so fast that he can’t keep track of them can’t lock onto anything long enough to think about it. Fragments of memories; a woman’s laugh gone before he can recall what the joke was. A silly dance, but it’s over before he thinks of the song. A whiff of a fragrance, but it passes before he can think of the brand. Then there are the emotions, those pesky things he spent eons avoiding, now he can’t even pick one to feel.

There’s a familiar face in the crowd. Which is enough to pull him out of his trance. He exits the vehicle and approaches Detective Decker. Though, each step feels as though he’s walking against the current of the ocean. If Lucifer isn’t careful, he just might drown.

“You got here fast,” Chloe doesn’t seem too surprised. “If I knew you would make the trip that quick, I’d have kept the suspect here for you to question.” She hands an evidence bag to one of the officers. “It looks pretty cut and dry, but I wanted to get your eyes on the scene.” She pauses for some of Lucifer’s usual color commentary, but it doesn’t come, “something seems off. I thought you might be able to tell me what it is.” She guides him into the building. After another pause that he fills with silence, she adds, “You’re quiet tonight, not that I’m complaining, but is something on your mind?”

“Well, you see, detective,” Lucifer catches himself eyeing which button Chloe presses, heart dropping when it’s familiar as well. “I thought you had misspoken when you told me where to come; this building is far too boring for a murder to happen here. Or so I thought.”

“You’ve been here enough to know the place that well?” Chloe asks, now making a conscious effort to be wary of what she touches.

“Yes, and not for the reason you’re thinking.” Every ding on each floor is a hammer striking a gong of bad juju for Lucifer. “I have a friend who lives here.”

“Right, a friend, so it’s exactly what I’m thinking,” the detective exits the elevator and makes it about six feet before realizing her partner isn’t following. “…You coming?”

It had been a long time since the world spun this way without the assistance of some potent drugs for Lucifer. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, are you coming?” Chole wasn’t stupid, she has the training to read people, and even though the so-called devil was trying his best to hide it, she could see this shook him. She reaches her arm out to hold the door from shutting. His eyes look so distant, terrified, and his posture has gone completely stone still. She’s been so distracted that she only just now notices the buttons on his shirt aren’t matched up, his hair is mussed, and he’s missing his jacket. Wardrobe malfunctions he was not known to make before showing up at a crime scene. Clearly, she had called him away from something else, but in the past, he’s always made an effort to make himself impeccably presentable no matter what he was busy with previously. But, getting this address, he rushed over here without regard to his standards.

“Oh, you know me, I’m always…” The words fall hollow from his dry mouth, the response automatic, but he can’t even be bothered to follow through.

“Lucifer,” she grabs the consultant’s arm to steady him when he finally emerges from the elevator and looks him dead in the eye. “I’m sure it’s not this friend of yours; plenty of people live here.” Though she is trying to be reassuring, it does not assuage the devil's emotions.

“So, the victim is a resident?” He leans into her grip. “On this floor?”

“Yes,” Chloe is quiet.

“This is the floor my friend lives on. There are four units per floor,” the blood pounds in his ears. “One unit is vacant, another occupied by an elderly couple, and I doubt you or I would have been called here for a heart attack.” He brushes shoulders with an officer as they proceed down the hall. He is too caught up in the pain welling up behind his sternum to notice. “Another unit is to the left out the elevator. We’re going right.”

Chloe watches him, dread building in her stomach. She had come to consider Lucifer a friend as well. Though he was limited in his capacity to show care, for him to be this upset - whoever lives here must be truly important; maybe he is a more sympathetic person than she gives him credit for.

“Most importantly, if she were okay, she would have called me.” Lucifer chokes on a laugh. “I told her to call me if she ever needed me, and cops running around on her floor would certainly be a reason to _call me_.”

He can feel the detective’s concerned gaze, wishes she wasn’t here, never wanted anybody to see how he may react when he crosses the yellow tape across the doorway of unit 7D. _Her_ unit.

“Through here then?”

Chloe stands between Lucifer and the doorway. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be here, conflict of interest.”

He stares over her, the flash of the forensic team’s camera becoming another sickening reminder of his nightclub, the place they met. “I have to see if it’s her,” he looks dear Chloe in the eye, trying to hide the pain in his. “Don’t let me read about this in tomorrow’s obituaries. Please.”

Chloe freezes, almost positive she’d never heard him say ‘please’ and truly meant it before, at least not with this level of desperation. “We already have a suspect in custody… we’ll get justice for this.”

Ducking under the yellow tape, Lucifer smells the familiar lavender essential oils, but the stench of blood taints it. He takes his steps slow, struggling to breathe as he looks around the apartment. It is a mess; clearly, a struggle took place. The dining room chairs are lying on their sides, one’s back is broken into pieces from the force with which it was thrown across the room. His friend’s precious decorative teapots have fallen from their shelving and lay shattered. A litterbox’s contents are scattered with the box itself upturned. Then there’s the blood. The stench is so thick because the room is covered in it. Pooled on the hardwood floor, sprayed across the furniture, on an impression in the drywall where it appears a head was repeatedly…

The picture in Lucifer’s mind, the image of the life draining from her face, is too much. He closes his eyes, thinking that will keep him from seeing it. But it plays like his own personal hell loop. What happened? How did this happen? He should have been here.

After a moment, he opens them again, turning to where the body is splayed across the floor. All that tension releases from his body when he sees the bloody blonde hair and lifeless blue eyes.

“Oh, thank dad,” His right-hand goes to his chest; it takes a moment, but composure returns soon enough.

“It’s not your friend?” Chloe doesn’t look too cheerful at that fact.

“No, no, this is her roommate, Brandi,” He clears his throat, fixing his collar, trying to make sense of the emotions he was feeling now that they’ve passed. “I mean, I knew her, but we didn’t get on very well.”

“Roommate?” The detective sighs. “Lucifer, that’s… that’s not much better, the other resident, Kara McMannon, is our suspect.”

Lucifer scoffs, “oh well, then I’m sorry, detective, but justice is further away than you hoped. Kara isn’t a killer.”

“I think I was right before,” she tries to reach for his arm again, but he backs away. “Conflict of interest.”

“Just let me speak with her, get this all cleared up for you,” Lucifer looks around, trying to ascertain what happened, hoping his friend hadn’t seen too much of this; she wasn’t cut out for bloody things like this.

“Dan is taking her down to the precinct now. Lucifer, I think you…” she didn’t want to tell him how bad things looked for Kara’s case. “I guess we can take you down, let you mojo her, but with you two being,” she pauses, searching for the right word, “close, I can’t take what she says with as much consideration as usual.”

“Oh, I can’t mojo her,” Lucifer locks eyes with the detective once again, but with his usual confidence back in his own now. “Doesn’t quite work on her.”

She hesitates, contemplating that statement. “I thought I was the only one you knew that was immune to your hypnosis?”

“She’s not immune, far from it actually,” he chuckles. “She has an,” he takes a deep breath, trying to find the right word, “Adverse reaction to it.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Well, you see, detective…”

**_six months earlier_ **

An overly perky, drunk, and not yet dead Brandi plopped down beside her roommate Kara at LUX’s bar. “Hey,” she twirled a lock of her hair, “Care-Care,” she sighed, “So I just met this totally hot guy.”

The young woman rolled her eyes before turning to face Brandi. “How long do you need?”

“All night?” The blonde put on her puppy dog eyes. “He seems so sweet; I really wanna see what he’s like in the morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” Kara slid her untouched cosmos away from herself, making room to rest her elbow on the sleek countertop, propping her cheek with the palm of her hand. “Don’t want to ruin his opinion of you when he meets your roomie in the morning, sees how gross and crazy she is.”

“I. Am. So. Glad you understand,” Brandi adjusted her pink cocktail dress. “How do my boobs look?”

“Where am I suppose to stay tonight, Brandine?” Kara exclaimed. “Cause, let’s be honest, nobody here will want to take me home.”

“Oh, right! Well,” Brandi reached for her purse. “Take my credit card, buy a few more drinks, and uh,” she shrugged, “find a hotel. I mean, it’s the least I can do with some of that raise you got me.”

“I can’t just…”

Before Kara could stop her, Brandi had pulled at the collar of the less confidant girl’s blouse and slipped the plastic piece into her bra.

“You can, and you will,” her perkiness faded away, and her eyes went cold. “I’m having a fun time, and I won’t let you ruin my night with your,” she gestured and sneered, “you-ness.”

Their exchange drew the attention of a particular pair of eyes across the bar. A man looked at the blonde with disgust and muttered, “humans,” with a degree of distaste. Hate turns to pity when he lays eyes on the other woman, sees the tears welling in her eyes.

Kara’s vocal cords seized up before she could protest. Her entire body went hot, and her eyes stung. She turned away from her so-called friend.

“That’s what I thought,” Brandi patted her on the shoulder. “Oh, and be sure to treat yourself. You’ve earned it.”

Several songs passed as Kara just stared at her cosmos, trying to put herself back together. The watchful eyes didn’t make a move yet, wanting to see what the woman did before deciding if he needed to intervene. He leaned back in his booth, occasionally speaking to other guests, smiling, laughing, enjoying himself as he does every night. But he couldn’t stop himself from looking over to the poor young woman every minute or so, hoping she’d eventually find the willpower to shake off the incident and have a good time.

When he observed a strapping young man take notice of her and make a beeline, the watching eyes was sure for a moment that the young lady’s night was about to turn around. He started to grin as the man sat beside her, but it instantly faded as soon as this creature opened his mouth.

“The fuck’s a freak like you doing here?” His words carried over the music and across the club, for a moment drawing looks from others nearby.

“Hey Kurt,” Kara felt her nails dig into her palm before she even realized she was making a fist. “Brandi got me in, then ditched me, as usual, you know?”

“Can’t say you don’t deserve it,” Kurt, an ex-boyfriend of the poor girl, sat beside her. “You’re killing the vibe here, Kara. Maybe you should find somebody else. You don’t belong here.” He leaned forward in intimidation. “This isn’t a place for freaks.”

Good thing she decided not to wear make-up that night, always too time-consuming, and running mascara is always too hard to fix. “You think I don’t know that? I don’t even want to be here.”

The man who had taken it upon himself to watch over her gets to his feet. The dark look upon his face was a deterrent to the woman he was sat with from trying to stop him.

Kurt gestured to the exit. “Door is over there.”

“You’re quite right,” a charming British accent cut in. “So, perhaps it’s time you left, sir.” The tall, somewhat menacing figure of Lucifer Morningstar appeared quite out of nowhere, leaning against the bartop to place himself between our heroine and this king of the assholes. “This fine young lady has had enough of your kind tonight. I believe it’s about time you left.”

“Me?!” Kurt scoffed. “Listen, dude, this chick is crazy. I’m just doing everybody a favor before she ruins this place’s image as a spot for you know,” he looked out at the crowd, grinning as his eyes find the tightest dresses he can, “high-class people.”

Nobody saw the movement, the shift in demeanor was too sudden. One moment Mr. Morningstar is suave, charming. The next, his hand is around Kurt’s throat; he becomes frightening, utterly hostile.

“The only person who does favors at my club,” Lucifer leaned in on the putrid mud stain, baring his teeth, voice going low to nearly a growl, “is me.”

The air caught in Kara’s throat, leaving her speechless.

“Maze,” Lucifer glanced at his bartender. “Why don’t you get this poor girl a better drink while I handle this malfeasant.” He was gone almost as suddenly as he appeared, dragging poor Kurt off to whatever fate awaited him.

“Is uhm…” she turned shakily to face the bartender, sweat mixing with the remnants of her tears. “Is he usually like that?”

Mazikeen of the Lilim shrugged, “it’s not unusual for him to stand up for a girl’s dignity.” She looked at the human up and down. “Now, I’m not usually all in on his acts of charity, but even I have to agree, you don’t deserve to be treated like that twice in one night.”

“You saw everything then?” Kara grabbed a napkin off the bar and tried to dry the mix of salty liquids off her face. Wait, bad word choice.

“We see everything that happens at LUX,” Maze turned to the liquor shelves. “So, what’ll you be having?”

The young woman bit her lower lip in thought. “You know what,” she glanced towards the door Lucifer went through. “I’ll take a glass of whatever your boss prefers.”

The demon laughed. “You won’t get any brownie points by sucking up to him,” regardless she reached for Lucifer’s preferred bottle of scotch, “not that kind of way at least.”

“I’ve heard you can learn a surprising amount about a person by what they drink,” Kara placed the crumpled napkins in a neat pile.

Maze grinned. Perhaps the girl was more interesting than she seemed; what she lacked in beauty she certainly made up for in brains. “It’ll take more than a drink to learn much about Lucifer, but if you insist.” She poured two glasses of the scotch before turning and handing one to Kara and holding the other out to Lucifer as he approached the bar once more.

“Why, thank you, my dear Mazikeen.” The man took the glass and made himself the third person to seat himself next to Kara that evening. “Now, that walking prostate of a man will not be bothering you again, ever.” He faced her, bringing the glass to his lips while finally getting a more up-close examination of the girl.

Kara felt her heartbeat pick-up as she met his eyes, “thank you,” as she took in his features, a feeling started between her legs that she’d not experienced in quite a while. “But knowing Kurt, he’ll be back. Maybe not here, but,” she grimaced, “well, we have a habit of running into each other.” She took a swig of the dark alcohol without giving it a taste test first. Immediately her throat started to burn, and once again, her eyes were watering. “Jesus Christ!” She coughed but immediately followed it up with a laugh.

“Trust me, he had nothing to do with the making of this,” Lucifer smirked, admiring how she just took it in stride. “And don’t worry, after our little chat, Mr. Kurt Von’Douchy won’t have the balls to even look at you wrong.”

A smile ghosted her lips, and Kara finally breaks away from his gaze before she gets any ideas.

“I’ll uh,” she tapped her fingers nervously on the bar. “I’ll get out of your hair soon. Have to figure out where I’m staying tonight, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Out of my hair?” Lucifer practically looks offended. “Why would I want that? In my hair sounds like a perfectly fine place for you to be.”

“I mean Kurt was right about something,” she brought the glass to her lips, sipping more carefully. “I don’t belong here. This place is too nice for freaks like me.”

“I disagree!” He objected, setting his glass on the counter. “As the owner of this establishment, I decide who belongs here. You,” he pointed to her, “most certainly do.” His hand covered her nervously, tapping fingers. “I happen to be a fan of freaks anyways.”

His smile was infectious; Kara couldn’t help mirroring it when she met his eyes again.

“Well, if you’re sure,” there’s that feeling again. Not quite butterflies in her stomach, it was lower, hotter than that. “I’ll try not to be too much of a bother.” The sensation became too much to handle, so she pulled her hand away to cup her glass with both and looked down at her lap. “So, I guess I should introduce myself properly. I’m Kara, and if you’re the owner, then I presume you are Lucifer Morningstar?”

“My reputation precedes me, as usual.” If she had been looking, Kara would have seen that as soon as she pulled away from him, a look of utter befuddlement came over him.

“I googled the club on the way over,” Kara sipped at her drink. “Brandi likes to take me to strip clubs and abandon me,” she grimaced at the sour taste, not of the scotch but of the memory. “So when she told me the name of the place, I looked it up to see what I was getting into.”

Lucifer took the bottle from behind the counter, “This Brandi,” he refilled his glass, “why do you spend so much time with her if she’s so,” then he moves to pour for her, “bloody awful?”

She pulled back her glass before he could pour. “She’s my roommate. I have to make her happy, or she’ll make my life hell.”

“I suppose that’s good enough reason as any,” he sat the bottle down. “Not a fan? Would you like something different? It’s on the house.”

“No, no, it’s good stuff,” Kara tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I just try to avoid getting too drunk in public.” Always a lightweight, she could already feel the buzz beginning at the back of her skull.

“Why?” He seems genuinely shocked, “that’s the best time to get drunk! Always fun to cut loose around some strangers and see where things go.”

She really, really wanted that drink, “Well I,” now she was back to the nervous tapping. “I’m not great to be around when I’m drunk. I get,” her leg started bouncing as well, “obnoxious,” she sucked air between her teeth, “Loud, clingy,” then met his eyes again, “annoying.”

The world seems to slow around them, and the music grows distant as they hold the gaze this time. The two look deeper than before, both searching for something—s _uch lonely eyes._ The thoughts are almost in synchronicity.

“Sounds like just about everybody when they get drunk,” Lucifer could see that desire, “come now, if you’re concerned about somebody taking advantage of you; don’t worry, I will be your guardian angel of fun.” He chuckles at his thought of perverting the use of angels, but perhaps next time he could phrase it a bit better. “Nobody will ruin your night; you deserve to have some fun, Kara.”

She liked the way her name sounded with his accent. “While that sounds really nice, and I would love to,” but her self denial is too strong, “ but I really shouldn’t.”

“Come now,” Lucifer leaned closer.“There’s nothing wrong with doing what you want. Let me help you get what you need.” He focused. “Tell me, Kara, what do you desire?”

She felt the pull of his power. “What?”

“Deep in your heart Kara,” he loved the glimmer she got every time he said her name, “what do you desire?” He flashed his devilish grin. “What do you covet? What do you want so badly it eats you up inside?”

Thoughts sprung to mind, “I don’t,” the kind she always pushed down, “shouldn’t talk about,” repressed wishes and abandoned dreams pulled from deep in her subconscious, “what are you doing?”

“Just helping you,” he was impressed, fascinated, and mildly concerned that she was able to deny his power so well. “Let me help you. Whatever you want, whatever you desire. I can help you get it.”

So many things, there are so many things she wants. “But why?” She couldn’t, though; she must deny herself; she doesn’t deserve them. “What’s happening,” she tilted her head, curled in on herself. “Do you hear that?”

Confusion broke his concentration. “Hear what?”

“It’s like,” Kara took deep, shuddering breaths. “Is somebody’s car alarm going off?”

“Of course not, whatever are you…” he pulled back, surprised, Kara went pale and rigid. He lurched forward to catch her when she collapsed.


	2. Act 1 Part 2; i still suck at naming this stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This part is shorter but the next one is already mostly written so I just have to edit it and it will be up much sooner. I'll add other notes like song ideas later for now I just want to get this up for people who have been waiting. Any time a certain chapter makes you think of a song, comment it, I really want to tie in music to this as much as I can

_six months ago_

“What do you mean she fainted?” Maze exited the elevator leading into the penthouse.

“What do you think I mean, Mazikeen?” Lucifer followed, carefully holding the unconscious girl in his arms. “One moment I’m speaking to this awkward, sad young woman,” he briskly walked across the main room and ascends the steps to the bedroom area. “The next, she was unconscious.”

“Humans don’t just _fall over_ ,” Maze said as she moved for the grand shelf of liquor, “something must have happened?”

Gently Lucifer laid Kara on his bed. He stopped before stepping away, studying her curiously. “I just asked her about her desires like I always do.” He brushed some hair away from her face, examining her delicate features. “I’ve never had this happen before.”

“Maybe her greatest desire was to take a nap.” The demon started going through the cabinets beneath the shelf. “Don’t you keep any water up here?” She asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Why would I? I don’t drink the stuff.” Lucifer shook his head, then left the bedside. “You’re sure her drinks earlier were clean?”

“Drink, singular.” Maze gave him a look that could kill, _insulted_ that he’d insinuate she’d let anybody taint the drinks at her bar. “And of course it was, not that it matters - she didn’t drink anything before you sat down.” She handed him a glass and said, “Go find some water; unlike us, humans actually need the stuff.”

Lucifer began to say something about not giving him orders but knew the ensuing argument would be a waste of time. “Watch your attitude,” was all he said before taking the glass and heading to the washroom. Meanwhile, Kara began to regain consciousness in the other room.

Kara didn’t remember fainting. But whoever does? One moment she was talking with the charming, attractive, sexy…. she couldn’t stop thinking these things, not knowing that it was an inevitable response to being around Lucifer and his powerful charm. But the next thing she knew, she was sprawled across a far too comfortable bed in a dimly lit room.

Her eyes opened to an unfamiliar environment. As her memory began to piece together the events of the night, an instinctive panic set in. Suddenly passing out in a bar, then waking up in a strange place, she’d never experienced it herself, but she knew it was a recipe for a bad time.

Kara kept her breathing quiet and moved slowly across the bed. She stayed low, looking around the room. In the distance she could see a piano and another bar with a high liquor shelf. A woman leaned against the counter, and the tightness in Kara’s chest eases up. She can breathe easier, feeling a sense of safety at the sight of another female. Until the woman turned to her, and she recognized the bartender.

The two lock eyes. Sweat dripped down Kara’s temple as the demon’s dark eyes resonate with something sinister. She froze, trying to determine if this was a friend or foe. But the unsettling grin Maze gave her caused new anxiety to bloom in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, her throat had closed up, and her heart pounded mercilessly against her poor ribcage.

“Lucifer!” Maze called out. “Your guest is awake.”

At first, Kara didn’t move; her muscles would not obey her commands, though they were somewhat conflicting. Run? Hide? What should she do? What could she do?

Then Lucifer stepped into the main room, looking to Maze, about to say something but stopped by the woman gesturing to the bedroom. Kara knew she had to act then, so she scrambled for the nightstand, reaching for something, anything she could use to defend herself. She laid her hands on a reasonably sturdy lamp as the man from the club turned to look at her. She gave it a fierce tug, hard enough to unplug it from the wall. Then she held it close to her chest while sitting up.

Kara and Lucifer locked eyes in a moment that dragged on into a minute. He was frozen like she was, as though he was just as afraid of her as she was of him.

He looked down at the glass in his hand, met her gaze again, then approached. “Kara, I assure you that this isn’t what it looks like.” The British accent sent an unpleasant chill down Kara’s spine, unlike the exciting tingle it caused previously.

As soon as Lucifer crossed the threshold of the bedroom, Kara hurled the lamp with all her might. It landed a few feet in front of the man, who paused, looking down at it.

“That was,” he sighed, “nevermind.” He stepped over the lamp and proceeded towards the bed. “Kara, you fainted, so I brought you up to my penthouse where you could recover.”

She backed up against the headboard, trying to get further away as he drew closer. “I was perfectly fine, the next thing I know I’m out cold, then wake up in your bedroom? Do you even realize how suspicious that sounds?!”

Lucifer paused at the edge of the bed, “I mean, if you’d passed out into the arms of any human male, then yes, I can see how that would be suspicious.” He offered her the glass. “But I have no ill intention towards you, Kara. I promised to protect you against any that might take advantage of you, and I am a devil of my word.”

The way he phrased all that did little to comfort Kara. She began to suspect that he might take his name seriously, which further invoked the idea she may be in danger.

“H-how do I know you aren’t, like, about to sell me into some-some human trafficking ring?!” Kara said, pulling her knees to her chest. She realized her blue box-pleated skirt was doing little to cover her as is, so she attempted to pull the fabric around her legs to protect herself better.

“That’s your first thought?” Lucifer scoffed. “You wake up in a stranger’s bed, and your first thought is that they’re going to sell you?” He offered the glass again. “I would think that a woman as anxious as you would fear something more immediate would happen.”

Something about looking him in the eye gave Lucifer power over Kara.

She could _feel_ it’s undeniable pull.

So, she looked away.

“I mean, the thought crossed my mind before I remembered,” she managed a weak laugh, a single dry chuckle, “You’re charming - handsome. You can have any woman you want; you don’t need to resort to drugs and rape.” Another laugh. “Even _if_ you’re one of those pervs with a fetish for non-con, I’m not worth the effort, the _risk_. So it doesn’t make sense.” She shook, tears in her eyes again. “But what _does_ make sense is you noticing that nobody would miss me.” Her gaze wandered around the room, trying to look at anything other than Lucifer’s entrancing stare.

“The club is a good front. Plenty of women come through, your charm gets them to tell you their story, and you find out if they would be missed or not.” She saw Mazikeen leaning against the piano, observing. “Female bartender makes us let our guard down, so we don’t notice our drinks being spiked.”

Maze rolled her eyes but did not interrupt.

Kara continued. “Doubt I’ll be a big payday, but an easy one for sure. You know my roommate doesn’t want me around, so nobody will report me missing for a while. If anybody ever does come looking for me, the finger can easily be pointed at Kurt, raging asshole of an ex-boyfriend with a penchant for harassing me, a decent fall guy.” She choked on one more laugh before finally looking at Lucifer, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was so stupid to think anybody would just come up and talk to me, be concerned about me. You saw an easy target, and I,” she was shaking as her feelings overwhelmed her. “I fell for your bullshit.”

Lucifer looked more than a little taken aback. He paused, processing the woman’s monologue. It was quite a bit to take in. Eerily familiar as well. There were undoubtedly more than a handful of souls in hell whom he’d witness use such concepts as their method of torture, both as the victims and the perpetrators.

“Your logic is _almost_ sound,” He placed the glass of water down on the nightstand. “But that doesn’t make it accurate.” He tried to smile encouragingly. “It never occurred to you that you are perfectly deserving of good company, and I approached you because my job as a club owner is to make sure my customers have a good time?”

Kara shook her head, “No, nobody would do that for me.” Some part of her psyche rejected any possibility that she was worthy of that kind of care.

Although Lucifer maintained a degree of calmness, his thoughts desperately struggled to understand this woman and how she could _continue_ to fight her desires with him around. “Well, if I was about to sell you as part of a human trafficking operation, why would I bring you to my penthouse? Why would you wake up in my bed, rather than a dark dingey room, bound and gagged?”

Kara faltered but came back with a strong response, “Holdover place until buddies of yours can come to grab me. I didn’t take another drink, so I woke up sooner than you planned.” She glanced at the glass on the nightstand. “Let me guess, there’s more in there?”

“You really don’t understand how roofies work, do you?” He laughed. “You saw Maze make your drink. You saw nothing was in it.” He held up his index finger when she opened her mouth again. “And, before you suggest it was already in the bottle, allow me to remind you I was drinking the same scotch.”

Her mind raced, attempting to concoct more good explanations because he was so far out there that it was unbelievable. “Hypnosis, your stare, I felt funny when you started asking me about-”

“No! No! No!” Lucifer sat on the edge of the bed, causing her to recoil. “What do I have to do to convince you that you are perfectly safe? That I’m here to help you because I don’t do a lot of this ‘out of the goodness of my heart’ thing, and you’re setting a perfect example for why I shouldn’t ever try again. Tell me what I need to do, Kara.”

“What do you have to do?” Kara wiped tears away from her right cheek. “Let me go.”

_present-day_

“So,” Chloe folds her arms, “she fainted?”

Lucifer catches sight of his reflection in a blood-streaked hallway mirror, “Indeed, it was quite the shock the _first time_ it happened.” He sighs at his disheveled appearance, ashamed for leaving the penthouse in such a manner. This simply will not do. “Wait, you said Detective Douche has her?” Now that he knows Kara is alive and well, he can focus on more important things. To start, he works to fix his mismatched buttons. “You can’t be serious. I finally got her trusting men again, and you stick her with a reminder of why she doesn’t want to!”

Chloe steps around the pools of the blood. “Dan isn’t as bad as you like to think. He’s not going to mistreat her just because she’s a suspect.” She peers at the broken chair, brow furrowing. “First time? So, after she passed out from you trying to hypnotize her, you tried again?”

He pauses, fingers caught between buttons. “I had to find out if it was a fluke. With her permission!” After Chloe rolls her eyes and returns to her examination, Lucifer fixes the last button. “She and I have spent the last several months trying to figure out why; it’s fascinating, really, and we’ve grown relatively close as a result.”

“So why have you never mentioned her before?” The detective lifts the chair, noting its weight.

“I,” the devil pauses, “don’t want her involved in this part of my life.” He glances back at the body. “She’s not got the stomach for this kind of thing.”

“For what it’s worth, Lucifer,” Chole sighs, “I don’t think Kara did this.”

“I would certainly hope you’d think that!” Lucifer runs his hand through his hair, wanting to get the dark locks under control. “I told you, Kara’s not a killer!”

“Sometimes, people you think you know can end up surprising you.” It’s an unfortunate fact of life that Chloe has become familiar with. “Regardless, something doesn’t add up. Help me do the math, and maybe we can prove her innocence.”

“If I help, you have to promise me something,” Lucifer turns to face Chloe, his expression dead serious. “You will clear her name.”

“I can’t promise that!” Chloe moves towards the damaged wall. “If she did this, I have to prove it.” There is a firmness in her voice. “If she’s innocent, I have to prove it; that’s my job.” She looks to Lucifer, unwavering determination in her eyes. “I can’t just cover for her if she’s guilty, and you know that!”

“Detective,” he grits his teeth, “she is innocent, and I can’t assist you if you can’t promise me my help isn’t going to be misused to make her look like she did this.”

“Lucifer!” Chloe whips around to face her partner. “I _don’t_ misconstrue evidence. I _don’t_ point fingers to make an easy case closed. You should know by now I find the _truth_ and make sure the right people get punished.”

He gauges the seriousness in the woman’s eyes, then nods. “All right, detective, to work then?”


End file.
